A Teenage Friendship
by MotherOfBabyDragons
Summary: Sherlock and John come from completely different backgrounds but when they meet at school they quickly become close friends. Sherlock soon realizes how bad Johns situation is and is determined to help in any way he can.
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you enjoy reading this :) please review I'd love to hear what you think of it.**

John jolted awake and looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table 8:25.

"Shit." he swore under his breath. It was his first day at a new school. He'd just been expelled from the last one. He got out of bed quickly and dashed into the bathroom for a shower. Two minutes later he was drying himself with a towel and then got dressed into an uncomfortable blazer and tie just as quickly. He ran into the kitchen where his 26-year-old sister Harry was sitting at the table eating a piece of toast.

"Harry?" John asked tentatively,"Could you please give me a lift into school this morning? I'm gonna be late and it's my first day."

"Can't you just walk?"

"It'll take too long. Please Harry, just this once?"

"Nah, I'm busy. Should of gotten up earlier. Besides I've got work in a minute."

"Please.."

She turned towards John who was quickly lacing up his shoes after deciding that breakfast would take too much of his precious time. He looked up and saw from the expression on her face that he'd pushed it too far.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. See you tonight." He said slamming the front door behind him.

Even after almost running the entire mile and a half to school John was still ten minutes late. He found the office and the receptionist told him where his classroom was although she frowned at his dischevelled apperence. He walked down the corridor he had been directed to and cautiously opened the door to room 14.

"Ahh. And you must be Mr. John Watson." The teacher exclaimed sarcasticly, "How nice of you to join us."

"Sorry I'm late sir."

"Yes I'm sure you are. Stay behind at the end of form. You are seated over there." He pointed at an empty seat next to a small boy with slicked back black hair. John walked over to the desk and sat down putting his bag under the table next to his feet. Once Mr. Lestrade, John knew this was his name from the timetable the receptionist had given him, started talking again the boy next to John lent over to him and said:

"Hi John, I'm Jim Moriarty."

"Hey," John replied softly so as not to attract any more unwanted attention from Mr. Lestrade.

It was almost quarter past nine. Nearly the end of form time where he would get told off. He was in trouble again. In the first half an hour of his first day of school, although technically he'd only been there for fifteen minutes. Harry was going to kill him when she found out. Then the bell rang making John jump.

"Okay, make sure you get to your lessons on time." Mr. Lestrade said, looking pointedly at John as everyone else grabbed there stuff and stood up, leaving John still seated. When the last person had left the room he walked over to where John was sitting.

"Now, I'm not going to punish you as it's your first day, but next time I won't be as forgiving. Lateness will result in a detention and repeated offenses will eventually end up with a phone call home. Please don't make a habit of this. Now, of you go, quickly, mind, you don't want to be late again do you?"

"No sir," John said meekly, looking down at the table.

When he found the maths classroom everyone else was already there, apart from, luckily for John, the teacher. John walked to an empty seat and sat down by himself at the back of the class. The rest of the day continued like this, with John sitting alone and silent while everyone else chattered away around him. He was glad when the day was finally over and he could begin the long walk home to his sister's flat.

Unfortunately for John, Harry was still working when he arrived home and he discovered that in his hurry that morning he had forgotten his keys. He sat down in the hallway outside the flat and waited for his sister to get home.

At half five, 30 minutes after Harry was normally home, John went back out onto the street to the phone box on the corner. It was disgusting, all the glass smashed out of it and stains on the walls and floor that looked very much like piss, but it was his only way to contact Harry as she refused to buy him a mobile phone. John dropped some 20 pence pieces into it and dialled her number. Just when John was about to give up she answered:"Hello?"

"Hi Harry it's me, John. I was wondering when you'd be home only I forgot my keys and I'm locked out."

Harry snorted,"You idiot. I'll be back in an hour we're real busy right now." She said and she hung up.

Busy doing what? John wondered. Harry worked in a nearby supermarket and she hated it there. She was always going on about how having to look after John was holding her back, but really it was the drink. He never said it to her face of course, that would make her completely flip out. Like the time three years ago, in an attempt to stop her drinking John had thrown out all the alcohol in the house and then she'd beaten him up so badly she'd broken his arm and then had to lie in A&E that he'd fallen down the stairs.

Then to make his mood even worse just as he was entering the block of flats where he lived Jim and his mate Sebastian walked past and saw him.

"You don't really live there, do you?" Jim said incredulously. John flushed red, granted it wasn't the nicest part of London but-

"You do don't you," Sebastian added seeing John's blush, "I thought it was only alkies and druggies lived here. Hey, John, you a druggie?"

"Oh fuck off." John said before turning away and walking into the building. The lift was still broken so he was forced to make the long climb up the stairs yet again.

As he walked up to the flat he shook his head at his stupidity, he'd only been at the school one day and he'd already annoyed his form teacher and pissed off the two biggest bullies in the school. Why did this always happen to him? He asked himself as he sat down on the floor outside the flat again. Why couldn't he just keep a low profile and not annoy the teachers, and the bullies, and Harry? He sighed. History was repeating itself. He'd done the exact same thing at his old school and ended up getting expelled.

Finally, another 45 minutes later, Harry got home. She laughed at the sight of him slouched on the worn carpet outside the flat before unlocking and opening the door. John headed straight for his room when he saw Harry get a wine bottle out of the cupboard. He tried to believe that if he didn't see her drinking then it would almost be like she wasn't drinking.

He got ready for bed and then put his keys into his bag, he definitely didn't want to get locked out again. He set his alarm clock and then switched the light off and lay on his bed in the dark listening to the clink of a bottle and glass in the kitchen. He wondered what his life would have been like if his parents hadn't died. Or if he and Harry had more money. Or if Harry didn't drink. Or if.. Or if.. Or if... The list could go on forever but there wasn't much he could do about his situation. The only person who could help him was Harry, and she didn't care. She only let him live with her so as not to get in trouble with the police or social services. She was the only family that he had left and she barely even thought of him as a person.

She hated him. Hated him for a crime he didn't want to or mean to commit. She'd been eleven when John was born. When their mother died in childbirth. John had never met his mother. Never even really seen a picture of her. His father had never allowed anyone to so much as speak her name, let alone look at a picture of her.

Especially John. Harry was always his golden child. She had perfect, long, light blond hair and innocent blue eyes, she was quiet and always achieved well at school, and she was popular and well behaved. Whereas he had sandy blond hair that was always scruffy and untidy and grey-blue eyes. He always got into trouble at school, mostly beacuse of his dyslexia which ment he struggled at almost everything. He didn't have many friends partially beacuse he was always getting into fights, which led to detentions and phone calls home which enevitably led to Harry laughing at his stupidity.

Then on nights when their father was particularly angry or drunk or both he would take it out on John, hitting him and screaming about how he was a murderer and didn't deserve to be alive. Then when Harry was 21 and he was 10 their father died. A massive heart attack from all the drink apparently and so he and Harry were left alone. Then two years after that Harry had started drinking and beating him. And he just let her. Just like he'd let his father for all those years. It was normal now, just part of his life.

John shook his head. This was pointless. Wishing wasn't going to make his life any better. He turned over and tried to go to sleep but all he could hear was the sound

of clinking glass.

**Thanks for reading :) Please review**


	2. Chapter 2

Five Months Later.

It was Sherlock's first day back at school after they moved house. He hated going to new schools, although at least there would be new people to deduce. It got boring seeing the same people every day.

"Sherlock, Sherlock. Where are you?" His mother called. He sighed, she always made such a fuss when he started at a new school, it was ridiculous really. She always checked that his tie was straight and his shirt was tucked in, that his hair looked alright and-

"Sherlock! Get down here now. Your going to be late." Sherlock grabbed his bag and ran down the stairs to face his mother. "Now you'd better not be late. And do try not to get into any trouble."

"Yes mother," Sherlock sighed as she fussed with his tie.

"Go on then, Mycroft will drop you off at school on his way to work." She said pushing him gently towards the front door.

Sherlock got into the car next to Mycroft, "You going to tell me what your job is yet?" Sherlock asked as Mycroft started the engine.

"You know I can't. Besides, why don't you just deduce it?"

"Oh very funny Mycroft. You always do that thing so that I can't. The only thing I could get was that your very important but you wanted me to know that didn't you?"

"Ah, well, yes. Better than I expected though." They sat in silence for the rest of the short car journey to Sherlock's new school. Mycroft pulled up on the road next to the school gates and Sherlock got out.

"Remember you're walking home tonight." Mycroft called after his younger brother before driving off.

Sherlock ignored the stares as he walked through the yard to the school office. It was just beacuse he's the new kid there wasn't anything nasty about it. Yet. He collected his timetable and then once the bell rung he followed the receptionists instructions to find his new form room. Outside room 14 there was an untidy line of teenagers pushing and shoving waiting to be let into the classroom by their teacher. He silently joined the back of the line, trying not to attract attention to himself.

Just as the teacher arrived a smallish boy with sandy blonde hair ran down the corridor to join the queue. The teacher unlocked the door and the students filed in. Sherlock let everyone else in first partly so he didn't get pushed around and partly so he didn't offend anyone by accidently sitting in there seat. The late boy wasn't so lucky. As he stepped into the classroom another, mean looking, black-haired boy shoved him and sent him stumbling into the girl in front. The late boy raised his hands up in apology and Sherlock could see him beginning to blush.

"Ahh," the teacher announced, "You must be Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock could feel himself beginning to blush now as everyone in the room turned to look at him.

"My name is Mr. Lestrade and you will be seated over there next to John." Mr. Lestrade said pointing at the late boy. Sherlock made his way over to the seat next to

John at the back of the classroom.

"Now, Sherlock, have you got your timetable?"

Sherlock nodded in response as he sat down next to John.

When the bell rang 10 minutes later the room exploded with noise as everyone stood up to leave.

"John, Sherlock. Stay behind please."

John sighed and sat back down next to Sherlock. He rested his head in his hands as if he expected something bad to happen to him.

"John. I would like you to show Sherlock around and help him get to all his lessons. Try to behave yourself." Mr. Lestrade said before making a shooing motion with his hands. John grabbed his bag from under the desk and stood up, Sherlock followed.

As they left the room John spoke for the first time. "What's first lesson? I've lost my timetable."

"Erm.. English." Sherlock said consulting the green sheet of paper the receptionist had given him.

"Okay, that's this way."John said pointing down a corridor. "We have all our lessons in our form groups except from your GCSE options. Those are in diffrent classes."

"Okay." Sherlock replied. They walked in silence until they reached the english classroom where the teacher greeted Sherlock and then said that he could sit where ever he liked. Sherlock sat down next to John who looked up, suprised that anyone would want to sit with him. Once the lesson was underway and the noise had picked up again, the black-haired boy who'd pushed John before lent over to Sherlock and said:

"Hi. I'm Jim. You know, you don't have to sit with him. I'd watch out if I were you, his sister's an alkie," Sherlock felt John tense next to him, "Reckon he's gonna go the-"

"Shut up." John interrupted. "Just shut up."

"Oooh. Someones getting angry, or, wait, are you sure your not just pissed."

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up!" John shot back angrily. Unfortunately for him the teacher walked over at that moment and heard him swearing.

"John," she said in a warning tone, "Mind your language."

"Yes miss." He replied quietly.

"And you Jim. Stop winding him up."

"Of course Miss," He said with laughter in his voice.

John went very quiet after that and didn't look up again, just got on with his work. Sherlock did the same, though from the look of frustration on John's face, Sherlock was finding it a lot easier than he was. Then as he was writing his answer for question seven, How does the writer's use of language show sarcasm?, he felt a tap on his arm.

"Erm.. Sherlock? How does- What does this question even mean?" John asked pointing to the third question.

Sherlock looked at John's excersise book and the barely legible scrawl in it. Dyslexic, obviously. How had he not noticed it earlier. It was all the other deductions messing with his head. Dead mother. Abusive father, now dead. Lives with alcoholic sister, also abusive. Poor. Not well liked. Disorganised. Troublesome. Easily annoyed. Wants to-

"Er.. Sherlock?" John's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What? Oh, sorry, yeah. Basically you need to write-" Unfortunately Jim had been listening in to their conversation.

"Oh, is poor little Johnny finding this a bit tricky? Well you know what they say, alcohol destroys your brain cells, you should stop drinking Johnny boy or your going to end up in some serious shit."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"Why don't you make me?"

Sherlock looked around for the teacher but she'd gone to do some photocopying. Luckily John had turned away and was taking deep breaths, obviously trying to calm himself down.

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief that there wouldn't be a fight, no doubt Jim's friend Sebastian would have joined in making it two against one and Sebastian was a lot bigger than John. But then Jim remarked loudly to Sebastian: "What a coward. Can't even face a little fight."

"Please be quiet," Sherlock pleaded Jim, but it was too late. John was out of his seat and stepping towards Jim.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"Ooh, aren't you scary," Jim taunted, "Imagine what you'd be like pissed," he said laughing.

Two things happened at once then. The teacher walked back into the room and John punched Jim in the face. Jim's head snapped back from the force and blood started to trickle out of his nose.

"John Watson! Get outside now!" The teacher demanded as Sebastian stood up about to punch John back. The whole class was silent. Everyone watched with bated breath for someone to make to next move.

"Sebastian. Sit down." The normally gentle teacher spoke with such force that Sebastian sat down in shock. "Molly. Please can you take Jim to the office. John. Step outside."

For a second John just stood still, frozen in shock, but then he walked slowly out of the door and stood in the corridor. Molly helped Jim out of his chair and then they too left the room.

Sherlock didn't see John for the rest of the day. He wasn't in Maths, or Physics and then Sherlocks last two lessons were options so he didn't see John then anyway. When the last bell rang at the end of the day Sherlock looked around for John, hoping to ask if he was okay. He wasn't really sure if him and John were friends but he thought he should still at least try to find him. After five minutes of waiting around he decided John must have gone home and so he left the school by the front gates and started the short walk home.

As Sherlock walked past an alleyway he saw movement and glanced to the side. What he saw took his breath away. Jim, Sebastian and another boy from their year were standing around something on the floor. No, not something, someone.

"Hey," he yelled running over to them, "Stop it,"

Jim sneered at him, "Ahh we're done here anyway," He said before bending down to their victim and saying softly, "That'll teach you to mess with me." He stood up and then planted one last kick in the boy's stomach causing him to cry out in pain. Then they walked away, leaving Sherlock and John alone.

"John? John, can you hear me? Are you okay?" he said uncertainly, crouching down next to John's limp form.

"I'm going to sit you up okay?" Sherlock said before putting his hands on John's shoulder's and helping him into a sitting position.

"John? John? Please say something?"

John tried to speak but instead burst into a coughing fit. When he'd calmed down and was breathing normally John tried again to speak.

"It, really hu-hurts."

"What does?" Sherlock asked anxiously.

"Everything."

"Oh. Urm.. Do you think you can walk? Do you want me to help you home?"

John froze at the mention of home. "Shit. I.. Oh, Shit. Harry's gonna kill me."

"Well I'm sure she'll understand under the circumstances that you-"

"You don't-," John broke off, coughing, "You don't know her. She won't give a shit." He manages bitterly.

"Do you want me to help you home then?"

"No it's okay I can manage fine" He said as he stood up shakily, balancing against the wall. "I can do it myself. It's okay." But when he tried to take a step he staggered and would have fallen if Sherlock hadn't caught him.

"I'm going to help you home," Sherlock said, "You can't get back yourself like this."

John started to protest but Sherlock just put his arm around John's waist to steady him and asked him which way it was.

It took them over an hour to stagger slowly back to the block of flats where John lived.

"Which flat is it?" Sherlock asked curiously as they entered the building.

"221, there's a lot of stairs."

"We can take the lift can't we?"

John shook his head, smiling at Sherlocks naivety, "Erm.. No we can't, it's broke. Did you really think that in a place like this the lift would work?"

"It's not that bad."

John smiled again. "It's pretty bad. You just wait till we get up stairs a bit. And at night."

They started to make there slow way up the staircase, John wincing all the way. When they reached John's flat he reached into his bag for his keys but then stopped before opening the door. He looked down at himself, his trousers were ripped and so was his school shirt. His blazer had mostly survived but was covered in mud, in fact his whole body was covered in mud. Blood was also soaking through his shirt from a deep graze across his chest.

"Oh, shit. I've wrecked my uniform."

"Don't you have a spare?"

"Yeah but Harry's gonna be even more annoyed now."

"Oh. Well are we going in or what?"

John took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Harry said, laughing, as they walked into the kitchen.

Sherlock saw John's face fall when he looked over at the kitchen table where there was already one empty bottle and another one which looked like it would be joining the empty one soon.

"For fuck's sake John! You've fucking wrecked your uniform." She said angrily and then muttered under her breath, "Fucking idiot." She didn't even seem to see

Sherlock and John ignored her. "Sherlock, my room's over there." They walked through the kitchen and into a small corridor before John opened the door to a small room. Sherlock was shocked by how little was in John's bedroom. There was a single bed in one corner with some storage boxes underneath it, a chest of drawers against the wall next to the window and a desk on the wall opposite the bed. There was a pile of excersise books and unfinished homeworks scattered across the desk but apart from that the room was bare.

"Great isn't it?" John said sarcasticly, seeing Sherlock look round the room.

"Erm, look, are you okay now? Only my mum will be getting worried so I really should get back home."

John sat down on the bed before replying: "Yeah I'm fine. You should probaly leave before Harry gets any more drunk," he looked away, embarassed. "But thanks for helping me get home and everything."

"That's okay, it's what friends do isn't it?"

John looked back up at Sherlock in surprise.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Just then Harry yelled John's name.

"Oh shit. Yeah, you really should go now. She's gonna go mental in a second."

"Okay. Well.. er, I'll see you tomorrow then." Sherlock said as John opened the front door to let him out.

"Yeah I guess I will." John said smiling before closing the door and turning back to face Harry.

As Sherlock walked away he could hear shouting coming from number 221 and he suddenly realised how lucky he was. The worst things that ever happened to him were that his mum didn't let him have a T.V in his room, or his dad made him do all his homework before he was allowed out, or when he was little, Mycroft wouldn't play with him. His life was completely diffrent from John's, who had to worry about whether or not his sister would get drunk, or if she would beat him up that night. And then when he was younger his dad did the exact same thing. This was all he'd known his whole life. All he'd been told by his father and his sister, was that he was worthless and didn't deserve to live. As he reached the gates to his house's driveway he decided that he would show John that he wasn't worthless. He would be friends with John and make his life just that little bit happier.

During dinner his parents quizzed him about his first day.

"Did you behave yourself?"

Sherlock thought back to English when John had punched Jim,"Yes mother."

"What's it like? Are the people nice? Did you make any friends?" She asked the last question cautiously beacuse Sherlock had never been the most social person.

"It was good. I met this nice boy called John, we sit next to each other in English." He didn't mention the later events of that lesson, or the day, as it would just cause his parents to worry that he was hanging around with the wrong sort of people.

Later, when he was lying in bed in the dark, he thought about what had happened that day. He realised that for one of the first times in his life he was getting emotionally attached to someone. He barely even knew John, and what he did know wasn't exactly a fairy tale. But he'd already decided that he was going to try and make John's life better.

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**

**I'll try to get the next chapter up tomorrow but if I don't it will definitely be up by Monday**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's a bit short but I managed to get this up as promised but I don't know if the next chapter will be up tomorrow as I haven't even started it yet :/**

**Also I have a ton of homework, I know, even in the summer hols! Anyway my mam has started to be all 'you really should start it now' so I have a feeling tomorrow will be spent doing my French and German speaking prep. Yayyy!**

****Warning for mild abuse and neglect in this chapter.****

Chapter 3

The next day Sherlock looked out for John before school started but he didn't get his hopes up beacuse he knew that John was often late. But then when John didn't turn up for English or P.E Sherlock started to worry that maybe he'd been more badly hurt than he'd originally thought. After breaktime he walked alone to maths but as he entered the classroom he saw a familiar sandy-blonde head at the back of the room. He walked over and sat down next to John saying, "Why weren't-" he broke off when he looked at John's arm. It was wrapped in a navy blue cast that went from his wrist and over his hand up to his elbow.

"What did you do to your arm?" Sherlock asked, shocked.

"I broke it, genius."

"Is that from Jim and-"

"No." John cut in. "I fell down the stairs."

"But there aren't any stairs in your flat."

"Yeah but there are some right outside it." John snapped back.

xxxx

Before Sherlock could reply the teacher came in and told everyone to be quiet.

"Okay, I just want you all to get on with your work from yesterday. If anyone needs help just stick your hand up and I'll come round."

Everyone got there books out and then started chatting and not doing the work they were supposed to be doing. John put his hand up and Sherlock remembered that he hadn't been in the lesson yesterday.

"I'll help you if you like?" Sherlock asked hesitantly after John had had his hand up for a couple of minutes and the teacher still hadn't come over like he'd said he would.

John put his hand down. "Erm, yeah thanks."

Sherlock started to explain briefly what they'd done in the previous lesson but he could tell that John wasn't paying full attention.

"John, are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. It's just the painkillers they gave me this morning at the hospital. They're making me sleepy."

"Oh. So you broke it this morning then?"

"Oh no last night but Har-" He stopped talking abruptly and looked away, staring at his exercise book as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"But Harry what John?" Sherlock asked. Then realization washed over him. "It was Harry wasn't it? You had a fight and she pushed you down the stairs."

He looked at his friend and observed. "You slept on the floor last night. Outside the flat obviously. Harry wouldn't let you back in..." He trailed off when he saw the incredulous look on John's face.

"I, I- What the hell? Are you stalking me or something? How did you know that?" John was too shocked to deny Sherlock's statements.

"I observed. I do it to everyone. So you admit it then, it was Harry?"

John looked back down at his exercise book. "Yeah," he said quietly, "It was Harry."

"What happened?" Sherlock asked curiously.

John continued to stare at his exercise book as he spoke.

"It was after you left. She was really drunk by then, started shouting about something at work. I didn't really understand what she was going on about."

"I heard that. The shouting, I mean." Sherlock said and John glanced up at him quickly before continuing.

"Well then I think, well, I'm guessing she remembered about my uniform and she completely flipped. She started chucking things at me and yelling about how I was so ungrateful and- Look, it doesn't matter. I'm fine."

"You're clearly not fine. She broke your arm."

"It was an accident. She didn't mean to. I shouldn't have made her so angry."

"What the hell John? How is this your fault in any way?"

"Just drop it will you. I said, I'm fine." He looked back down at his blank exercise book and Sherlock knew he wasn't going to talk about it anymore.

xxxx

After a few minutes Sherlock's curiousity got the better of him.

"Why didn't you just walk to A&E last night?"

"I don't know if you noticed, Sherlock, but I don't exactly live in a nice area. You don't just 'walk to A&E'. Also the hospitals about 5 miles away from the flat. Besides that would have been even more suspicious. A 15-year-old boy turns up in A&E with a broken arm, by himself, wearing ripped school uniform, in the middle of the night. That would definitely have raised a few eyebrows."

"But you wouldn't have been by yourself. Harry would have gone with you."

John looked at Sherlock with an amused expression, "In that state? I don't think so. She could barely walk."

"But-" Sherlock began to protest but at that moment the teacher came over and started telling them off for not doing any work.

After half an hour of sitting in awkward silence John spoke.

"Sherlock? Could you help me with this question?"

"Yeah sure. Which one?"

John pointed to the question in the textbook.

"Oh that one's easy.. Err sorry," Sherlock coughed awkwardly, cursing himself inwardly for his stupidity. "I mean, it won't look that bad once you get the hang of it. You just have to do completing the square. You need the x at the start of the bracket and then the plus 3x. Then you need the squared symbol outside the bracket."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that now. Thanks." John said, before focusing on his work again.

Sherlock sat for a moment trying to think of something to say that would things better between them but his mind was blank. Sometimes he really hated his lack of experience with social exchanges.

xxxx

Another fifteen minutes of awkward silence the bell rang making them both jump. John shoved his stuff carelessly into his rucksack and then waited while Sherlock carefully stowed away all his things into the correct sections of his bag.

"Come on Sherlock, hurry up. I'm hungry."

"I'm coming. Have patience." He said putting the last book into place and closing his bag.

"Let's go." John said leaving the room, then glancing back to check Sherlock was following. "Do you have packed lunch?" John asked as they neared the canteen.

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Hah. No. Why would Harry pay for something she could get for free?"

"You get free meals. Cool."

John looked at Sherlock bewildered. "'Cool', not really. There not exactly high quality."

"Yeah, but the school gives you it for free. Would they do that for me?" He asked, clearly excited by the idea.

John was completely confused now, how was Sherlock so clever but so ignorant?

"Err, Sherlock, you only get free meals if you're, well, not as well off." He looked pointedly at Sherlock's designer shoes and bag. "I'm pretty sure you don't fit into that catergory."

"Oh, I see."

"Yup. Well I have to go get my lunch but I'll be back in a second."

Sherlock stood and watched John walk over to the counter to get his lunch. He was such an idiot. How did he not know all this stuff, he'd completely embarrassed himself in front of the only person who-

"Erm, Sherlock?"

John's voice broke into his thoughts, "Shall we go and sit down?"

"Yeah, okay." Sherlock replied, following John to a small wall round the side of the main building. John noticed Sherlock's curious look and shrugged sheepishly.

"No one comes round here. Means you can eat lunch in peace."

They sat down on they wall and ate their lunches, John was right, it was peaceful. Silent except from the distant chatter coming from the canteen and the occasional car driving past. Once they'd finished eating they sat in companiable silence until Sherlock blurted out:"Do you want to come over to my house for dinner on Friday after school?"

After a moments silence Sherlock looked nervously over at John who looked shocked.

"Sorry." Sherlock started to apologise,"You don't have to it's just-"

"No." John interrupted,"I mean, yeah that'd be cool. As long as it's okay with your parents?"

"Oh yeah, They won't mind."

Sherlock looked over at John's happy face and decided that he quite liked this friends thing.

**If you understood the bit about quadratics, I feel your pain, I really do ;)**


End file.
